


The Honeymoon Is Over

by Sreya



Series: The Girl from the Coffee Shop [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Hydra!Skye AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sreya/pseuds/Sreya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that she's pretty well integrated into Garrett's team, Skye goes out in the field on a mission with Agents Triplett and Monroe to retrieve some intel as part of their search for Ian Quinn. (Set around the time of AOS 1x09 Repairs)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Honeymoon Is Over

**Author's Note:**

> Good grief, this hit me out of nowhere this morning and ended up being WAY longer than I expected! I'd planned on building on Skye and Trip's relationship a bit before writing something like this, but then this is why I'm doing it as a series and not a chapter fic, so I can write stuff as it comes to me.

Skye nervously bit her lip as the rest of the team settled into the conference room, Garrett leaning against the wall. “Gentlemen, we’ve got a new mission coming up, compliments of our resident hacker. She pulled together all the intel and even planned out how to get what we’re after.” Trip gave her a grin and a wink, and she responded with a watery smile. Garrett just gestured at the large computer screen behind her. “Go ahead, girl.” This was big for her - Garrett had tasked her with tracking down the buyer for Quinn’s new tech, a new superalloy that was practically nonconductive and could therefore be used in high friction machinery without the load of a coolant system. When she’d not only tracked down who the buyer was but figured out a way to get more info on when the sale would go down and where, Garrett gave her the go ahead to run with the mission. So she had all the data pulled up, the general outline of a mission plan, and the team supervisor’s approval.

Now if only she could stop sweating under her arms, things would be great.

Opening the first file, she started explaining, “Quinn International has developed a new superalloy, currently referred to as Alloy 37, that’s supposed to be nearly nonconductive, yet as strong as a titanium alloy. Quinn’s been looking for a backer for production. Catch is, he’s smuggling the raw materials from a region in Africa that’s been interdicted, so he can’t go through the usual production channels.”

The next file she brought up included the picture of a middle-aged, graying man with dark skin and eyes. “Enter Carl Struthers, a South African venture capitalist with few ethics. I intercepted some messages between Struthers and a Quinn representative about the alloy. Unfortunately, none of the messages included any information about an actual meeting. From what I put together, Struthers met with a representative in person to work out details of a meeting with Ian Quinn to talk terms.” She looked up to see everyone’s eyes on her, focused on her intel. Feeling a little more confident, she brought up the next file, blueprints of a large home. “Struthers keeps all his calendar and sensitive information on a handheld device without any wireless capabilities. He also maintains a dedicated computer station in his home for sensitive work, disconnected from the internet or any business networks. The handheld device was designed to sync up and transfer data _only_ with the computer, so short of stealing the device itself and hacking it, it’s no use without the computer station. However, the computer itself was built with standard I/O ports, meaning if you can get to _that_ , you should be able to copy the data without anyone the wiser. Assuming you can get through any security protocols it has installed.”

She looked over at Garrett, who nodded in encouragement. “If we can get the information on the meeting without them ever knowing we got it, we’d be able to catch both of these guys at once. That means the computer, not the handheld, is our target. In two days, Struthers is hosting an auction in his home in Cape Town. Lots of people, lots of activity, perfect way to get into the house. This wing with the computer,” she zoomed in on that section of the blueprint, “is on a separate security alarm system. I’ve added two aliases to the invite list; I’ll go in with Tripp as guests, we’ll get the alarm system disabled and then go grab the data from the computer. I can set the system on a timer to turn back on after a certain amount of time, so we don’t even need to return to start it up again. We’re in, out, and nobody the wiser.” Taking a deep breath, she looked to Garrett for approval. 

He clapped twice, sarcastically, and walked up to her at the screen. “Not bad for a rookie. We need to adjust a couple of things, though. You don’t want to be out of sight of the auction that long, it’ll be suspicious. Better for you to disable the alarm system, and then let someone else slip into the room to get the data off the computer.”

Skye furrowed her brow. _Dammit, why didn’t you say that before when I suggested this plan to you?_ “Except it needs to be someone who can hack through the protocols quickly, and, no offense guys, I’m the best one for that job. The longer we need to keep the security system down, the more likely it is for someone to find out before it comes back online.”

Garrett just shook his head at her and continued. “Dan, you’ll go in with Skye undercover. Once the alarm system is down, send a signal to Trip and he’ll enter through the back, here,” he pointed to an exterior room several yards down from the office, “and go for the data on the computer. Skye, you can build a key for him to use on the system, right?”

She huffed quietly. “Sure, but it’ll take at least fifteen minutes for an algorithm to crack that type of security software, maybe even twenty minutes. I could do it in _half_ the time -“

“Don’t care. This is a one-man in and out op, and if you go in, you’ll need someone to watch your back, that’d make two of you _and_ you’d be missing from the party. Trip will go in with the key.”

Trip shrugged at her sympathetically when Garrett wasn’t looking. She scowled, then felt bad about it. It wasn’t Trip’s fault, after all. 

Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus back in on Garrett as he started going through details on how to get Trip in and out of the compound unseen. _It doesn’t matter. It’s just another stupid mission that Garrett will probably sabotage anyway to avoid catching Quinn again_. He’d never said it explicitly, but based on the tasks she’d been given Skye _knew_ Garrett was deliberately missing Quinn, leaving him free to run around. He must have something that Garrett wants, though she had no idea why he was taking so long to do anything about it. 

Regardless, she was pissed off that Garrett waited until they were in front of the team to change her mission plan like that. Talk about _rude_!

… … …

After a long flight in a cramped jet, a quick shower and a visit to the salon in the hotel, Skye was on her way to the auction with Monroe. She was incredibly jittery - her dress, a deep blue gown with an uneven hemline, cost more than her _van_ , and that didn’t even begin to account for the jewelry she wore. With her hair up, nails painted and makeup professionally done, she looked at least 5 years older and far more sophisticated than she’d ever felt in her _life_. Monroe sat next to her in the limo, wearing an expensive suit with ease and looking very much the part of a rich party guest. Skye took a deep breath and fiddled with her purse, then pulled out her compact to check her makeup again.

Monroe chuckled and leaned over, placing his hand on her wrist so she’d lower the mirror. “Skye, you look _fine_. Don’t worry about this, it’s easy.”

She chewed at her lip. “Sorry. This is just… well, I feel ridiculous in this!”

“You look beautiful and you know it,” he reassured her. “You’ll have to remember to send a picture to Ward.”

She blushed at that, and shoved the compact back into her purse. “I didn’t think to take a picture.”

“Don’t worry,” Monroe leaned in conspiratorially, “I caught Trip taking a couple snaps of you with his phone, Ward probably already has them.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she tried to smile and lean back. Monroe took the cue to change the subject. “Okay, so our covers are-“

“Susan and Donald Martin, a wealthy American couple on their honeymoon. Your dad was big in the software game in the 90s, sold his company just before the bubble burst, died soon after and you inherited everything. You’ve tried your hand at investing a few times, made a little bit off it, interested in maybe getting into something bigger. But at the moment,” Skye playfully looped her arm around his, getting into character, “you’re more interested in impressing your bride with a trip to Africa, and we’re looking for an artistic momento to take home.” She grinned up at him. “You know you’d never be able to sound like you knew the first thing about a software company, and that’s the easiest cover for newly rich Americans. Too many companies went under back in 2001 to keep track.”

He shook his head at her. “You’ve gotten really good at putting together these aliases.”

She shrugged. “Just takes a little practice.” What she didn’t tell him was that she was so good at this because she’d worked so hard at erasing and rebuilding herself. Not only did she have a good idea how a person was presented to the world, but she’d spent a lot of time daydreaming about who she wanted to be someday, and how to create a profile to match. Who would have known it would translate so well to spy work?

Before too long, they were pulling up to the mansion and exiting the limo to join the crowds inside. Skye had learned Struther kept a radio scanner on site, so they were operating without comms, leaving them on their own if anything went wrong. It was still a little while until the auction would start - the plan was to turn off the alarm system just before they gathered everyone to begin the bidding, and have Trip slip in while the security guards were sure they had everyone in one room together. In the meantime, Skye and Monroe wandered through the displays of paintings, statues, and what had to be archaeological artifacts that Skye was sure should be illegal to sell. But no one was batting an eye, so she just smiled and chatted with the other women who were all eager to hear about the honeymooners in their midst. Monroe kept a firm arm around her waist and smiled indulgently, playing with her hair from time to time and dipping down to whisper in her ear the locations of the security guards, disguising it as playful kissing. It felt absolutely _weird_. Monroe was a married man, she’d seen pictures of his wife and son, yet he was perfectly comfortable in his role as her besotted groom. _This plan was so much easier when I thought it would be Trip with me._

It was a relief when the time came for them to slip away. Monroe tugged her down a hallway, kissing her neck to give the other guests the impression that the honeymooners were looking for a little privacy. Everyone nearby took the hint and politely averted their eyes. Once they were out of sight and Monroe dropped his arm, Skye took a cleansing breath.

“Something wrong?” he asked her in concern.

“No, it just -“ she shook her head. “Never mind, we don’t have time for me to explain. Let’s get this system down.”

Rather than going to the control room in the front of the house, Skye had identified a utility access point where she could use her laptop to hack into the system, created when the separate system was installed. Monroe stood guard while Skye connected her laptop and started typing. “How long is this going to take?” he asked after a minute.

She snapped her laptop shut and closed the wall panel hiding the port. “Done!” she announced, reaching up a hand to ask for help standing up. He tugged her up easily. “Don’t look so surprised, this was the easy part.”

Nodding, Monroe pulled out what looked like a vehicle key fob and pressed a button, sending the signal to Trip that he was a go. “Alright, back to the party. They’re going to start the bidding pretty soon.”

She followed him down the hallway, but stopped short at the door that led into the other wing. By the time Monroe realized she wasn’t with him, she’d already opened the door and was about to slip through it. “Skye!” he hissed, rushing back to her and grabbing her arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She shook his arm but his grip held firm. “We can’t afford to let the system be down for the 30 minutes Trip would require to get in, get the data, and get out. I can do it in less than 10.”

“The plan is to let _Trip_ do it.”

“I already set the system timer to 15 minutes.”

She saw the blood drain from Monroe’s face, then quickly turn a bright red in anger. “What the hell are you _thinking_?”

“I’m thinking we can’t let anyone know we were here! Now let me go so I can get this data, or do you want Trip to get caught?”

For a moment, she almost thought Monroe was going to object and signal to abort the mission. Then he sighed and let go of her. “What do I say if anyone notices you’re gone?”

“I don’t care, tell them I had a wardrobe malfunction. I’ll be back in 10 minutes, I swear.” With that, she ducked through the door and rushed to the office. Luckily it was in sleep mode, shaving off the precious seconds she would need to boot it up. She opened up a terminal window and started working her way through the system, then popped in the usb drive once she knew it would set cause the computer to lock up. The timer she’d set on her wrist to sync with the security relaunch read 12 minutes left.

At nine minutes, Trip entered the room and nearly shot her before realizing who she was. “Skye, _what the hell?_ ”

“I’m almost done,” she murmured. “That algorithm would have been too slow.”

“Garrett told you to go back to the party.”

“I made a call.” She started transferring data to the drive.

Trip swore, softly but creatively, then took up a protective position between her and the door. She checked her timer. Seven minutes.

“What took you so long getting in?”

“Guard smoking near the entry point,” Trip grunted. “Won’t take as long getting out.”

“Good,” Skye breathed. “Because this is going to take another couple minutes.”

At five minutes, she yanked the usb drive and started the commands to reactivate the security protocols, erasing all digital evidence anyone had been in the system. At four minutes, she handed the drive to Trip and said, “Let’s go.”

Skye eased open the door, letting Trip check for hostiles in the hallway. Everything was going perfectly - all she needed to do was get back down to the auction and enjoy the rest of the evening, maybe slip out early after a little PDA with Monroe to give the impression that the honeymoon didn’t really need artwork to spice it up. Trip would slip out the way he’d come in, they’d have the data, mission accomplished.

Later, she’d reluctantly admit she may have jinxed herself.

Before she and Trip were even out of sight of each other, a guard rounded the corner in front of Skye and stopped, startled. If it had been just her, she _might_ have been able to play the ditzy guest who’d gotten lost. But with Trip clad in black mission gear only a few feet behind her, gun in hand, there was no way the guard would ever believe her.

“Hey!” the guard shouted, grabbing at Skye and yanking her close. Trip closed on them in an instant. With Skye held closely, he couldn’t use the gun so he had to work her loose before disabling the guard. After a few grunts and the guard’s hand tangling in her hair, Trip managed to push her loose, hard enough that she slammed into the wall before backing away. Somehow in the struggle Trip had dropped his gun, and was now locked in hand-to-hand combat with a man twice his weight, though thankfully no match for his skill. The guard slammed Trip down and got in a good kick to the ribs before Trip managed to yank the man off his feet, roll around and capture him in a headlock. With a loud grunt, Trip twisted his grip sharply and Skye heard a _crack!_ as he broke the guard’s neck.

She covered her mouth in shock, panting as she tried to catch her breath. “Trip -“

“C’mon,” he grabbed her and pulled down the hall. “Forget going back downstairs, we’re getting you out of here _now._ ” He yanked open the door to the outer room just as Skye’s watch beeped, then winced as an alarm went off.

Their fifteen minutes was up.

Setting his face like stone, Trip raised his gun and shot out the window across the room, then ran with Skye in hand and they both jumped out, landing hard on the concrete overhang before rolling to the ground. They could hear shouting as guards ran close. Recovering from the fall, Trip yanked her up and they sprinted away from the house. Skye ducked as she heard gunfire from behind them, swiftly followed by the sound of distressed guests rushing out of the house to find out what was happening. 

Her lungs burning, Skye was grateful to see the compound wall coming up with an open vehicle gate. A car waited just beyond, engine running. When the reached it, Trip opened the back passenger door and pushed Skye in, climbing in and shouting, “Go, go!” before he’d even closed the door. Skye cringed as she heard the _ping ping_ of bullets hitting the car frame, then Davidson turned them onto a main road and they sped away.

… … …

When they arrived back at the hotel, Davidson pulled up to a back entrance so they could enter without explaining Skye’s disheveled appearance. Trip hadn’t said a word to her the entire way back, and only answered Davidson’s questions with brusque, one or two word answers. She’d never seen him so pissed off, and frankly she was a little frightened of him. He climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind him, creating more distance as Skye climbed out after. “Trip, wait!”

He just kept walking without looking back. Sighing, she followed him into the hotel to face the music, Davidson a step behind her. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she could feel the bruises coming up on her hip, arm and shoulder where she’d hit the concrete during their fall. Entering the suite they were using for a workspace, she looked around for Monroe. Her heart sank when she didn’t see him. “Where’s Dan?”

Dumont gave her a nasty look. “Just called in, said he’s about halfway back to the hotel, managed to lose his tail. The real question is, why aren’t _you_ with _him?_ ”

“Where’s Garrett?” Trip interrupted, saving her from answering. She wasn’t sure if he’d really meant to stop Dumont’s questions, or if he was just impatient; either way, she was grateful.

“Coordinating with local law enforcement,” Perry answered, “trying to lay down some cover for why SHIELD was operating in the area without informing them first.”

Skye’s heart sank lower. “I’ll, uh, just go get changed out of this dress.”

No one answered her as she exited the suite. Once she was in her own room, she tore off the dress and started yanking pins out of her tangled hair. She took a look in the mirror at the sweat-streaked makeup on her face, and decided to take a shower. She caught a glimpse of the bruises that were starting to show on her right side and winced. Those were definitely the kind that hurt more the day after.

After carefully washing away all the grime and brushing out her hair, she dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt before rejoining the team. Standing outside the suite, she took a deep breath and knocked.

Davidson opened the door and gave her a sympathetic smile. Behind him, Trip, Monroe and Dumont were sitting in the lounge chairs with drinks in hand. Monroe had changed out of his suit and into black pants and shirt. Trip hadn’t bothered to change at all, and looked ready to be sent back out at a moment’s notice - it was probably nothing more than soda water in his glass. Perry was nowhere to be seen - not a big surprise, considering how the man avoided conflict. And Garrett was over by the window, speaking lowly into his cellphone. She could see the line of tension in his back, a stark contrast to his easy going demeanor. Uneasy, she sat down in a chair near the door.

Garrett tapped his phone to end the call, then turned around. His face was dark. “Someone want to tell me what happened?”

Skye could _feel_ the way everyone’s eyes turned to her. Haltingly, she explained what had happened - what she had done - on the mission. Trip spoke up once to try and deflect a little of the heat, but Garrett shot him a pointed glare that said he knew exactly what Trip was doing, and he backed out of the conversation again. When she was finished, she waited for someone to break the heavy silence hanging amongst them. 

Garrett tapped his fingers against the side of his leg, letting the moment drag out before saying anything. “So, what you’re telling me is that you went against my orders, jeopardized the mission and alerted the mark to our presence. Because you thought you could do it better.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. 

“Better than a trained agent - a _specialist_ \- after we went through all the mission parameters and _specifically rejected_ the idea of you retrieving the data.”

Her stomach tightened up into a knot. “Yes, sir.”

Garrett rapped his fingers against his leg again, then walked over to the suite door. “Let’s take a walk.”

Skye stood up slowly, every instinct telling her to run. But she’d made this mess. She could have gotten Trip _killed_. She’d face the music. Skye glanced in Trip’s direction before exiting, and thought she saw him wincing in empathy. Then she followed Garrett out and down the hall. She hesitated slightly when he opened the door to an empty hotel room at the end, but one look at the glare he held made her lift her chin and march into the room in front of him.

Once inside, Garrett grabbed her tightly by her bruised arm and shook her; she hid the wince of pain. “What the _hell_ is wrong with you?” he hissed. She didn’t answer, because there was _never_ a good answer to that particular question. “Losing the data wouldn’t have been _half_ as bad as blowing your cover and creating a scene like that. Now we’ve got a body, pissed off law enforcement officials calling _my_ boss, and Struthers will most likely change every detail of his upcoming calendar meaning there’s no way to track him!”

As if to emphasize his words, he shoved Skye and she stumbled into the dresser behind her. She gripped the edge of it to stop her hands from shaking.

“ _Dammit_ , Skye, you _know_ we have to stay under the radar. _Especially_ you.”

“I know,” she answered in a small voice, looking down. 

“Why the hell can’t you just follow my orders as they’re given to you!”

“I don’t know!” she cried. “I’m _sorry_ , I _know_ I fucked up.” She furiously blinked back the tears. “I _know_ I shouldn’t have done it. I _know_ I almost got Trip killed and god only knows what else. I’m _sorry_ , I don’t know what else to say!”

She took a deep breath after her outburst, waiting for the response. Garrett left her waiting more than a minute. 

“Do you know what a cracked rib feels like, Skye?”

She shivered at the dark tone in his voice. “No.”

He walked up closer to her. “Because that’s what Trip got out of your little stunt.” He grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “Do you think that’s fair?”

She shook her head.

“Do you think it’s _right_ that _Trip_ should be the one suffering for _your_ mistake?”

 _Oh, god_ , she thought in terror. “No,” she whispered.

“I didn’t think so.” He turned around, and she sagged in relief.

Before she knew what was happening, Garrett swung back around and punched her, _hard_ , in her right side. She cried out in pain and shrunk away from him. “Oh, no,” he shook his head. “This is _your_ mistake. You need to bear the consequences.”

Her head fuzzy, she fought against her fear and straightened back up, moving her hand away from the guarded side. He swung again, and this time she felt something crack in her ribcage. She swallowed down a scream and hunched over, protecting herself from any more blows.

Luckily, he must have known exactly what damage he’d caused because he didn’t tell her to stand back up. Instead, he took her by the shoulder and led her to the bed where he helped her sit down. “There you go, breathe through your nose so you don’t hyperventilate on me now.” Following his instructions, she slowed her breathing and got a handle on the panic rising in her throat. He kept a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. “You understand this is nothing compared to what I could do.” She nodded jerkily. “And I’m not even talking physical pain. I’m the only thing standing between you and the Fridge.” She nodded again, swallowing hard. Garrett lifted his hand and smoothed down her hair. Skye closed her eyes, bile rising in the back of her throat. 

Then Garrett pushed himself off the bed and stood in front of her. He’d shed the anger and regained his composure. “Well. We’ll salvage what we can of this. I want you to analyze _every byte_ of data we pulled from that computer, see if there’s anything at all useful.” She nodded in acknowledgement. “And from now on, you’ll follow every one of my orders to the letter. Because we can’t afford to let things like this happen again.”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Good.” He gently grasped her by the elbow and helped her stand up. “Go back to your room and pack. We’ll be leaving immediately. I’ll send one of the boys to come carry your bag. Seems like your mission injuries’ll make that a little difficult for you.”

Skye just nodded and followed him out into the hall. Her room was on the way back to the suite, so she ducked in and closed the door behind her, leaning against it to stop the shaking. _I’m so stupid_ , she thought to herself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

She took a deep breath, and winced at the pain shooting across her chest. She straightened up carefully and started collecting her things to pack. Thank goodness she’d thrown the dress and other mess onto the bed instead of the floor - she didn’t want to think about bending down to pick things up right now.

Once she was done, she sat down on the bed to wait, since he said he’d send someone for her bag. She closed her eyes against the tears trying to break loose, but refused to let them go. The knock at her door startled her, and she jumped up to open it. Outside was Trip with an icepack. “Hey, Garrett said that fall messed you up pretty bad.”

Skye just nodded, and smiled in thanks as he handed her the icepack. She opened the door wide and let him follow her into the room. She expected him to just grab her bag and go, but instead he sat down and patted the bed next to him. She sat down gingerly. “Trip, I’m sorry I got you hurt.”

He just shrugged. “Comes with the job to be honest. I’m more worried about how you went off book.”

She closed her eyes and just wished she could shrink away into nothing. When she opened them back up, something had shifted in Trip’s gaze.

“My third field mission out, I was a sentry for my team.” Trip shifted a little on the bed to better face her. “I had _strict orders_ not to move from my spot. But see, I heard something around the corner. At first, I told myself, _Stay put, Trip, you’re supposed to be watching the road._ But then I heard it again, and started wondering, _What if someone got here before I did? What if they’re setting up an ambush for us just around the corner?_ Now, what I _should_ have done was radio in to let them know I was checking something out. But I figured, it’s fine, I’ll just move down a few feet and peek around the corner. If there’s a problem, I’ll let them know. And it wasn’t like I was the only guy watching the street, right?” He gave her a sad little half smile. “Turned out there was nothing there but a stupid cat digging around, probably after a rat or something. No danger. Problem was, while I was off checking the alley our mark went right past where I _should_ have been instead.”

“Oh, shit,” Skye muttered.

Trip chuckled, but it didn’t have his usual pep behind it. “ _Oh shit_ doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it. The guy took down a couple other agents and made off scot free. I thought I was gonna be fired for sure. I probably _should_ have been fired.” He shook his head. “My point is, we all make mistakes. The problem is that in this business, mistakes can have serious consequences. And the biggest mistake we can make is going off on our own. When we get orders, we don’t always have all the information. And other people are _counting_ on us to follow our orders, so they can follow theirs.” He reached over and held her hand. “Skye, I was counting on you to give me a 30 minute window to get in there, get the data, and get out. When you changed the plan, you broke my trust.”

Now she _really_ wanted to cry. This was almost worse than Garrett’s punishment. “Trip, I didn’t mean to put you in danger, I just thought it would be better to be faster.”

“I know, baby girl. But it’s more important that I can trust you to have my back, and do what I’m expecting you to do.” Her heart sank lower than she thought possible. “Now, I know this was just a mistake. Can I trust you to not make it again? Can I trust you to have my back?”

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold all the way through, not just where she had the icepack lodged against her side. _Trust_. The _last_ thing he should do is trust her - after all, she was helping Garrett slip out information right under Trip’s nose, and he’d _hate_ it if he knew that.

But on the other hand, what he was asking was for her to watch his back. _That_ she could promise him honestly - she could do that. So she nodded slowly, “I’ve got your back, Trip. Promise.”

“Okay.” For a moment, it almost looked like he was going to kiss her forehead, but then he just stood up and grabbed her bag from where it sat on the bed. “C’mon girl, let’s get out of here.” She followed him into the hall, and he turned to give her a smile. “Just don’t go telling Ward I let you get hurt or he’ll fly in from wherever he is to kick my ass.”

She faked a smile and followed him out of the hotel. Later on the plane, his words would come back to her when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, Skye saw Ward’s picture on the screen. She should have answered it - he could have been calling with intel. It’s why she always kept her phone with her.

But the thought of talking to him as she sat on the airplane, her disappointed teammates around her and pain lancing through her body, was just too much. Instead, she declined the call and curled up as best she could in her seat for the rest of the flight.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry! But Garrett's a real sonofabitch, which Skye needed to learn eventually. It's important later that she's afraid of him. And I wanted to play with Trip as Garrett's "man" which is also a little scary to think about, because we love his sunshine but you know as a specialist and trained by Garrett he had some darkness in there, too.
> 
> Next piece for this series will be lighter hearted, I promise!


End file.
